


pale beneath the tan

by biohazardgirl (haemophilus)



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Backstory, Character Study, Gen, My Typical Bullshit Ykno, Secondary Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 13:18:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15631458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haemophilus/pseuds/biohazardgirl
Summary: Dennis’s mom was revealed to him in a plush white bathrobe. She was thin everywhere – neck, fingers, bust, and waist. Her cheeks and chin were angular and intimidating – a look Dennis cultivated but never reached. She made an O out of her lips and daintily wiped something unseen off the thin rim of her pink mouth.Three reflections on Mac, Dennis, and Barbara.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whatsupbitches (Larkin)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkin/gifts).



> This was part of a fic that's never going to get finished. I figured some of the stuff I wrote was coherent enough to post so! Here it is. Whatsupbitches, this is for you. I know it's not the exact thing you wanted but I hope you like it anyway.

“You really live here?” said Mac in an awed voice. The sheer magnitude of the inside of Dennis’s home outweighed his urge to play it cool. He ran his fingers on the wall outside of the door – no peeling wallpaper– and gazed up at the chandelier hanging over. . .whatever room this was called. Mac had never been in a house where all he could see were stairs when he came in the door. Everything was just so –

“Nice, isn’t it?” said Dennis. He looked up at the ceiling, and wrinkled his nose. “Well, except for the ceilings. They’re still a mess.”

“They’re so high,” said Mac. His skin tingled like it did sometimes at church. When footsteps sounded from the top of the stairs, he half-expected it to be a soloist preparing to sing a hymnal. The illusion was shattered when the voice that echoed through the large room was slow and slurred.

“Who’s here?” she said. Mac tilted his head to attempt to see her beyond the half-wall that obscured the landing. No such luck.

Dennis sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It’s just me, mom. Go back to bed.”

The woman made a sound somewhere between a hum and a sigh.

“No, ’m awake now. Think I’ll have coffee.”

Dennis’s mom was revealed to him in a plush white bathrobe. She was thin everywhere – neck, fingers, bust, and waist. Her cheeks and chin were angular and intimidating – a look Dennis cultivated but never reached. She made an O out of her lips and daintily wiped something unseen off the thin rim of her pink mouth.

“Who’s this?” she said, stopping halfway down the stairs. Something wet caught in Mac’s throat at the acknowledgement; it took all his strength to answer instead of cough in response.

“Me?” he said.

“Yes, you, dummy,” she said.

The way she spoke made it feel less like criticism of a stranger and more like a sage truth about Mac’s entire person. He’d been so dumb until now; it was time to shape up.

“I’m Mac,” he said, trying to make each word sound as intelligent as possible. The woman scoffed. Goddammit.

“Not your **name** ,” she said. “Why are you in my house?”

“Um –” said Mac. He rooted around in his brain for an answer that had nothing to do with her but came up empty. A sharp squeeze to his shoulder brought him back to reality.

“Mac’s my friend,” said Dennis. “I’ve invited him over to hang out for a few hours.”

Mac pointed at Dennis, nodding. “What he said.”

Dennis’s mom looked Mac up and down with narrowed eyes. Finally, she sighed.

“Whatever. Stay out of the good liquor. We’re having company tomorrow.”

She made her way down the rest of the stairs, and walked away. Mac watched her until she left the room.

“God, she’s so embarrassing,” muttered Dennis when she was gone. He grabbed Mac’s wrist hard enough that it hurt, and dragged him out of the room. “Let’s go get wasted.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dennis slammed the medicine cabinet shut.

“Goddammit! Where are they?”

His voice cracked on the last syllable, and his face darkened. It wasn’t a great look on Dennis, though Mac would never say so to his face. He’d seen the way Dennis looked at dead birds and squirrels nowadays, wide-eyed with twitching fingers. Somehow, it was way creepier than watching Charlie bash stray cats. He didn’t need. . .whatever Dennis liked about the dead birds to be aimed at him.

“Maybe they’re in your mom’s room,” Mac suggested. Dennis gave him a look as if he was very slow. He cleared his throat as if it would prevent puberty from messing around with his next sentence.

“I know there are some in my mom’s room. She just usually keeps more stashed around the house,” he said, voice still cracking. “Goddammit.”

“Can’t you just go get them from your mom’s room? She’s sleeping, right?” said Mac. Dennis leaned against the sink, threw his head back, and sighed dramatically.

“I don’t wanna wake up her awful dog,” he said. “Gives me a headache the rest of the day.”

Mac nodded. Dennis was very gangly and clumsy these days; it made sense that he’d have trouble getting around quietly.

“I could do it. I got good reflexes,” said Mac. Dennis let out a short laugh.

“Really?” he said, voice dripping with disbelief. God, Dennis was always asking for a punch in the face. It was a mark of Mac’s karate training that he knew to reserve his fighting skills for defense or Dennis would get his ass kicked way more than Mac already kicked it.

“I’d be in and out in ten seconds,” he said. “Less than, probably. Way too fast to wake up the dog.”

Dennis tilted his head down to look at Mac. His dark eyes made goosebumps raise on Mac’s skin.

“If you even think about waking up my mom’s dog for one more second, I’ll tell Adriano Calvanese that you told me you want to suck him off,” he said.

Mac’s heart raced for a moment as he rifled through his mind for any drunk conversation, any blackout, **anything** , that would have made his tongue slip into telling Dennis what he thought of when he did. . .that thing he really wasn’t supposed to do. Then, Dennis gave him a cruel smile, and he let out a sign of relief. Dennis was just fucking with him; he didn’t actually know.

“God, okay! You’re such a dick,” said Mac.

Dennis shrugged.

“Yeah,” he said. Then, he ruffled his hand through his hair, and scrunched up his face in frustration. “Fuck, man. I really wanted that oxy.”

“You think Dee’s got any in her room? We could rifle through her shit for a while,” said Mac. Predictably, the tension in the air dissolved at the suggestion that they fuck with his sister.

“Now that’s an idea,” said Dennis.


	3. Chapter 3

It was dawn when Mac woke with an urgent need to piss. They’d drunk too much the night before – yet another ‘sendoff’ for Dennis’s entry into college three months from now – and his seal was finally breaking. Still kind of drunk, he wandered through the house trying to not get lost on the way to the bathroom for the umpteenth time. The bathroom was on the right – no – the bathroom was on the **left**. Unless it was forward. Goddammit.

Mac wandered off to the left, looking for anything that seemed bathroom-y. There was a door that was ajar two rooms down the hall. Bathroom doors were things that stayed open. Probably a good bet. He walked over to it, praying that he was right.

When Mac peeked into the room, he discovered that he. . .half-was. It was the master bedroom. Inside, Barbara and her dog were dead asleep. Mac tilted his head further into the room. The bathroom was so close and yet – so far.

Mac weighed his options. On the one hand, Dennis would murder him if he woke up his mom and her dog. On the other hand, he really had to piss.

The discomfort in his bladder won out. He’d make it through with his catlike reflexes easy as pie. Mac crept into the room – God, this was enormous – and made it safely to the bathroom without waking anyone. Then, he made the mistake of sighing in relief when he pissed.

“Yip yip yip yip!”

Mac hurriedly zipped his pants, and flushed the toilet. Barbara flicked on the lights.

“Who’s there?” she said in a gruff voice. Her tiny dog skittered into the bathroom, growling. Mac resisted the urge to laugh at the impossible amount of noise it was making. Barbara stormed into the bathroom. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Dennis’s friend! Mac!” he said. Totally useless – she rarely remembered him.

Footsteps pounded down the hallway. Dennis caught himself on the door frame, swaying against the tension of his own outstretched arm.

“Mac?” he said, with breathless fury. “What the hell are you doing?”

The truth – **I just had to piss!** – got caught on his confused tongue.

“I dunno!” he said. Barbara rounded on Dennis who, for the first time Mac had ever seen, looked terrified.

“Bruiser caught this deviant with his pants down in my bathroom,” she said.

“I was just using – “said Mac.

Barbara cut him off. “I would have expected this from one of your sister’s lousy boyfriends, but I expected better from you, Dennis.”

Dennis gripped the door frame tighter. He averted her eyes.

“I’m sorry mom,” he said in a low voice.

“You should be,” said Barbara. “Get him out of here.”

Dennis looked up at Mac like he was a dead bird.

“You heard her. Get out,” he said.

Mac ran out of the room so fast the rug burned his feet. He grabbed his keys from Dennis’s room, and raced down the stairs. The weak dawn light greeted him like a friend.

After that, Dennis cold-shouldered him for three weeks. It took two months before he stopped only calling him to buy weed.


End file.
